


Resurrection

by dashakay



Category: Battlestar Galactica (2003)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-11-17
Updated: 2009-11-17
Packaged: 2017-10-03 05:42:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14808
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dashakay/pseuds/dashakay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It drives him crazy, seeing her every day at the lab.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Resurrection

It drives him crazy, seeing her every day at the lab. Only he could find a lab coat, shower cap and safety goggles to be immeasurably hot. That's the kind of insane he's become lately. Insane for her clipped, bossy voice. For the lift of her pointed chin and the avian arch of her nose.

Behind the plastic of the goggles, her dark eyes promise him something. "Nobody has to know, Galen," she'd said the first time, when they'd fumbled in the back of her car in the parking lot.

Nobody has to know. Ellen would kill them. She'd lectured them, at the beginning, on the need for secrecy, and professionalism in all things. "This will be the salvation of our people," she'd said at the first meeting, the five of them sitting around the conference table with coffee and bagels. "Don't screw it up by doing something stupid."

Something stupid involves dragging Tory into her office late at night, when the others are busy or have already gone home. Shutting the door behind them and lifting her up onto the desk, papers scattering everywhere.

She tastes like coffee and the pizza they'd ordered in earlier. She smells like test tubes and the starch in her lab coat. Her tongue twines with his; they're old friends by now.

"Nobody has to know," he whispers in her ear, and she shivers and shakes out her fall of black hair from the confines of the cap.

"Resurrection," she says, her hand cupping and stroking his balls through his trousers.

"Resurrection," he repeats. It's almost as arousing as her breath on his cheek and the swell of her breasts through the green scrub shirt. "We can live forever."

Tory jumps down off the desk and pushes down her scrub pants, kicks them into some dim corner of the tiny office. She turns to face the desk, flashing him an inviting look over her shoulder, her ass pushed up into the air.

She's tiny, so small and he doesn't want to hurt her, but she has hidden strength coiled in her limbs. He thrusts into her and she thrusts back. His fingers find snake their way around to the front to find her clitoris, to apply the gentle pressure he knows she likes so well. He bites her neck and it's salty like the rim around a margarita.

"Oh," she sighs, almost more a hiss than a sigh. "Resurrection."

His cock, buried deep inside her, twitches at that. Live forever. Never age, never get sick or infirm. Wake in a new body, mind and memories intact. He comes so hard he nearly crushes Tory into the desk, whispering her name over and over again into her ear.

They dress hurriedly, needing to get back to the lab before anyone notices they're gone. Her hair is a glorious tangle and she tries to tame it into a sedate pony tail. Her cheeks are flushed, lips swollen. He thinks he could love her. Maybe, just maybe.

Tory stands on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, "Nobody has to know," she says in a quiet voice.

He nods, attempting to pull up his pants. He wishes it could last longer, could become something more than a ten-minute fumble in her office. "Nobody has to know," he says.

They walk out of her office and down the hall, back to the lab.

END


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